“—if we’re not safe here, where are we safe?”
The break-in has everyone on edge. Makes sense. If someone can get into Ash’s office that easily, what else can they get into? Who else can they hurt?
I ignore it and keep walking. My stomach growls loud enough that I press a hand to it.
The baby is unusually hungry today. I need food. Now.
The main kitchen is at the back of the clubhouse. Pedro sits alone at the small table in the corner, nursing a cup of coffee that probably has whiskey in it. He looks like he wrestled a hangover and lost.
“Morning,” I say, heading straight for the bread.
He grunts in response. Doesn’t even look up.
I pull out the loaf and start stacking slices. Pop four into the toaster. Then realize four isn’t going to cut it and grab the second toaster from the cabinet, plugging it in and loading it with four more slices.
“Hungry?” Pedro asks. He’s watching me now, one eyebrow raised.
“Pregnant.”
“Right.” He takes another long sip of his coffee. Definitely smells like whiskey. “Heard congratulations are in order.”
“Thanks.”
The first batch of toast pops up. I grab the butter from the fridge and slather it on thick, not bothering with a knife. Just use my fingers. Butter drips onto the counter but I don’t care.
I bite into the first slice while the second batch is still cooking. The butter is salty and rich and exactly what I need right now.
Pedro watches me demolish two slices before speaking. “Hell of a morning.”
“Yeah.”
“Heard someone broke into the president’s office last night.”
“That’s what Ash told me.” I grab the third slice. “Whole place was ransacked.”
“Shit.” He shakes his head. “We’re supposed to be safe here. If someone can get into his office, what’s stopping them from getting anywhere else?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brothers are spooked. Been talking about it all morning.” He drains his coffee. “Any idea who did it?”
“Not yet. Ash is working on it.”
The second batch pops up. I butter those too and stack them on a plate. Eight pieces total. That should hold me for at least an hour.
Pedro’s been with the club longer than I’ve been alive. Rode with Dad back in the early days before I was born. Never married.
He’s one of the quiet ones. Does his job, keeps his head down, and drinks too much since his wife passed. But he’s loyal. Been loyal to this club for thirty years.
Pedro eyes the tower of toast. “That’s a lot of carbs.”
“Your powers of observation are astounding. You should be a detective.”
He snorts and raises his coffee cup in a mock salute. “Sarcasm before eight AM. You’re definitely Iron’s daughter.” He stands and rinses his cup in the sink. “Your mom used to eat like that when she was pregnant with you. Peanut butter and pickles straight from the jar. Your dad thought it was disgusting but he bought her a whole case anyway.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“She was stubborn like you too.” A small smile crosses his face. “Drove your dad crazy. But he loved her for it.”
